


Didn't work out the first time round

by Kitschgeist



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 13:39:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13055106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitschgeist/pseuds/Kitschgeist
Summary: From the reminiscences of Sherlock Holmes' Montague Street flatmate.





	Didn't work out the first time round

I do not claim to be a virtuous man, but at the very least, I can say that throughout my adult life, I have never heard anyone remark that I lack patience. However, thanks to recent events, I am now prepared to give up even that modest achievement.

There is no way around it: I have had it with my fellow-lodger! Who the devil does he think he is? I am a consulting detective, he said. I study both the most singular and most banal aspects of life, he said.

Then he went on about how the singular and banal are intertwined, and something about weaving or embroidery or some such rot. Very well, I said, I look forward to sharing rooms with you. As far as I understood, he was some sort of scientist. And as for the 'detective' part of it, I supposed he was an admirer of Poe's Dupin.

How wrong I was. For all I know, he could have meant that his goal was to make the most singular behaviour an everyday occurrence - it was certainly what he did. He practised singlestick with the hat-stand as an opponent. He summoned the eeriest tones from his violin in the wee hours of the morning. The smoke from his shag tobacco was indistinguishable from the acrid fumes from his chemical experiments. The only times he did not make a nuisance of himself were when he injected himself with cocaine or morphine.

Once, I returned home and came face to face with my doppelganger. Or, he would have been my doppelganger, if his attempt at disguising himself as me had not been so pitiful. If his disguise had been at all convincing, I would have been furious with him. If any of my acquaintances had met him so attired, they would have thought I had gone mad.

But my days at Montague Street will soon be a distant memory. I have found an affordable practice that meets my needs, and will soon move out. Finally, I can both live in peace and advance my career. I can already see the metal plaque outside the front door: _Dr Ormond Sacker, Physician_.


End file.
